memories & shadow dancers

rainy afternoon in Prince George BC, only 13 degrees, on this the day of falling into autumn. Before I turn to thoughts about alzheimer's disease and the Prince George symphony orchestra, I am in the mood for a poem by Prince George poet Ken Belford so here it is:

physical moments

Whenever an onstage dancer is rehearsing,
a shadow dancer is somewhere behind -
learning the dance, just in case.
It seems there's a turning point
when the director calls the women in.

Shadow dancers get the call after the injury
or if the lead isn't good enough.
Or if she's tired and can't finish the rehearsal
or falls and can't do the number.

She's had enough, the pail's full,
and she's happiest onstage
where she comes to life.
Backstage isn't interesting;
loves that don't mean much
other than the fatuous sense of feeling safe
for a few minutes in another's arms.
Whose arms doesn't matter.

There, she doesn't dance very well at all.
Her body seems heavy, it's too big
and her loves are addicts or drunks
like she is and now that she's old,
she's angry at the world, the way
things just don't seem fair

from ecologue (2005)

Sometimes, a Ken Belford poem is one of very few things that make sense to me in this old world, and this poem - today on this chilly rainy afternoon in Prince George - is one thing that makes sense. Thanks Ken for these words and for the stirring & haunting image of the shadow dancer waiting backstage.

A World Alzheimer Report released today tells us that 35.6 million people already suffer from alzheimer's disease, a condition that has no cure, and by 2050, these numbers are projected to reach 115 million worldwide. It will be an interesting world by then, and I may be one of those numbers, if I am still around. I suspect the numbers are very underreported - I know someone near and dear to me (my mother) who is having major memory problem and whose doctor is taking an extremely hands off approach to care. . . we have not received a diagnosis. In the small towns of northern BC, there is not a lot of emphasis on specialized geriatric health care. We can only surmise what may be happening. In a certain sense, I feel I am watching as my mother becomes a kind of shadow dancer of who I once knew her to be. The Report speaks to the significant depression & burnout that caregivers experience - I have been asked to speak about caregiver burnout (and self-care) at the Prince George Council of Seniors Wednesday, September 30, at noon.

I hear today too that the Prince George Symphony Orchestra faces risk of shutting down due to government funding cutbacks, and they desperately need people to fill the seats at their concerts so they can keep going. We are so fortunate to have an orchestra of this calibre in this town. The season starts this coming Saturday with the Classics September 26, Vanier Hall at 7:30 pm, featuring Beethoven's mighty 5th, Mozart's overture to the magic flute & Saint-Seans cello concerto.

I will be there, with my mother. She loves the orchestra. These days she may not always remember what I told her 5 minutes ago, but she certainly remembers her youth in a European city, attending the orchestras in the grand and elaborate concert halls, and the beautiful emotions that these songs evoked for her. Let's hope for my mother's sake and for all of us, that this city's orchestra will be able to remain onstage where they are happiest and the players' music together comes to life like the dancer in the poem. . . where all of us who listen can be whisked away to those magical places of the imagination where we feel we can dance.

Let the show go on! . . . while memories and reason may fade with time and age, feelings never die.